


those who by their absence are an affliction

by AwayLaughing



Series: songs of monstrous grandeur and merciless devotion [6]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-07 00:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12222009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwayLaughing/pseuds/AwayLaughing
Summary: Chouji is a boy stuck between mourning things he hasn't-lost-enough and things he might-lose-yet. Sakura is trapped mourning because someone didn't die - because they didn't choose to come home. Both wear their guilt like a cape. Neither thinks the other deserves it.





	those who by their absence are an affliction

His uncles were dead.

 

His uncles were dead. His team was grieving; his aunts were grieving; his parents and sisters were grieving.

 

His uncles were dead and Chōji’s family was dying.

 

Right now he wasn’t doing anything about it, either. No, right now he was avoiding everyone especially his family. Because they needed help and shoulders to cry on and hands to hold and his shoulders weren’t wide enough and he didn’t have enough damn arms.

 

Because he didn’t know how to help them. And he didn’t know what to do for himself. Because his uncles had died but Ino and Shikamaru had lost dads, his father lost his brother and Yoshino-bachan lost the love of her life.

 

Because he’d lost his uncles but he hadn’t lost enough.

 

And because Sakura was seated on a bench in _his_ brooding place crying so hard she hadn’t noticed him yet.

 

He hovered, awkwardly, on the edge of the clearing. This was a strange little park in a civilian suburb in Zutaini-ku. Frankly, he didn’t think anyone else knew about it, and here she was. For a moment he was annoyed, but it went away quickly and was followed up by grief. Because she was crying. He couldn’t really escape it – and when he could he didn’t want to because if Shikamaru would just cry _once_ it might help.

 

And gods, Chōji wanted to help. He wanted it more than air. Which was why he stepped out of the trees, slowly like approaching a spooked animals.

 

“Sakura-san?”

 

She jumped as if stung, pulling a kunai out from nowhere. When she saw him, she froze and they stayed there, her half way between sitting and standing, him with his hands clasped in front of him like a nervous child. Her face was white and her eyes were wide and red. Tear tracks glistened in the grey, cloudy light, somehow highlighting the hollows of her cheekbones and the darker circles around her eyes. He suspected he didn’t look much better, but under the tears and exhaustion she looked guilty. It was something about the way her eyes pinched at the corner, and the specific way her mouth turned down.

 

One didn’t need to be a genius to know why Haruno Sakura was crying alone in a hidden park.

 

"Chouji-san, she said, voice raspy from her sobbing. "I didn't realize anyone else knew this place."

 

"Asuma-sensei showed it to me," he said. Sakura's expression crumpled.

 

“Oh gods, I didn’t know,” she said, looking even guiltier. She did put the kunai away at least. “I’m sorry I-”

 

“No no it’s not like, _my_ spot. I'll just-" he made to leave but she gave a small yelp.

 

"No! I mean you can go if you want but you can," she gestured to the bench beside her. "Only if you want."

 

Chouji conidered her, and after a moment's hesitation he gingerly sat on the furthest part of the bench. It still didn't leave much room and, for want of what else to do Chouji just sat there, hands folded in his lap.

 

The ensuing silence was excruciating. A few times Sakura took a deep breath as if she was going to something, but she never went through with it

 

For his part, Chouji was trying to think of what to say if anything and how the hell to say it.

 

The silence continued. Sakura shifted but didn't leave and he started feeling more and more aware of how much room his shoulders and arms took up.

 

"I didn't hate him, you know," he said once maybe ten minutes had passed. "Still don't, I guess."

 

Another charged silence. " You don't have to lie," she said. "People think I don't understand, but I do."

 

Chouji shook his head. "I'm not. I mean I'm not sad he's gone and I haven't liked him in a long time, but I've never hated him. And um, that’s okay."

 

Sakura took in a deep watery breath and let it out again before she answered. "Yes it is. Thank you Chouji-san."

 

"Yeah," he said. "Um what I kind of mean though is it's okay for you. That you don't- that you love him and that you're upset."

 

Sakura shook her head, frowning. “It feels wrong,” she admitted. “He...he suffered a lot. But he’s done a lot too since then. When do we stop making excuses? And if we’ve stopped – if I admit he’s been responsible for...any of it...how can I be sad that he’s not ever going to come home? That he _can’t._ ”

 

Chōji shrugged. “I don’t know, I’ve never loved someone who did anything that bad,” he said. “But...” he paused. “Shikaku-jisan wasn’t the easiest to know.” She nodded. “He did a lot of things that made people uneasy. He made Yoshino-bachan and Shikamaru both cry more than once. He wasn’t...exactly a good person. But we all loved him anyway.”

 

Sakura just looked more miserable. “Konoha mourned him anyway – he might not have been good but he was never a traitor.”

 

“No, I guess not.”

 

Silence descended. A bird landed in front of them, one black eye studying them before deciding they weren’t threats. They watched it peck at the ground and harass an ant hill. Just as it finished and was settling down to sun bathe, Sakura spoke, spooking it away.

 

“It’s just I see Ino. I see her try and how much it hurts her and I can’t do anything because I can’t help but think about Sasuke and I _shouldn’t_ – he’s not dead. I shouldn’t be this sad. I can’t be as sad as Ino – but I am and I...” she trailed off.

 

“I know,” he said. “Me neither.”

 

She jerked at that, green eyes flying to his face. “But Chōji – Shikaku-sama and Inoichi-sama...” she trailed off. “They were your uncles, no?”

 

“But not my dad, or my brothers or the person I loved so much I chose them. I-I mean I lost things with them but,” he shook his head. _I didn’t lose enough._

 

Sakura’s hand closed around his as best it could, and he jerked, startled. She started to withdraw, but he managed to grab her in a way that said she didn’t have to. Another awkward look past between them, and she put it back, just placed over his.

 

“You lost people you love,” she said. “Love isn’t measured by relation it’s just...it’s just love.”

 

Chōji sighed. “I have my parents and my sisters and my two best friends,” he said. “But my dad and...they don’t have those anymore. Not all of them, anyway.”

 

Sakura made a small sound. They went quiet again, and Chōji focused on the wilted looking hibiscus across from him.

 

“Naruto can’t accept he’s not coming back,” she said. “Keeps insisting that in a few months Sasuke will get bored or lonely and come back. We can’t even think the name around each other anymore. Last time I punched him. He always said he couldn’t stand people who lied to themselves,” she shook her head bitterly. “But we were both doing it, from the minute Sasuke left.”

 

Chōji sighed. “At least you’ve tried to talk about it,” he said. “Last time I brough Shikaku-jisan up with Shikamaru he told me we weren’t discussing that, and if I tried he was leaving. We were in _his_ office.”

 

Her laugh was short and watery and sad. “Aren’t we all a sight,” she said. “Nobody crying when their supposed to for the people they should. What a joke.”

 

“You’re doing alright,” he told her, patting the hand on top of hers. She squeezed back slightly.

 

“You’re doing alright, too.”

 

He gave her a small smile and she tried to send him one back – but it wavered.

 

“Sakura?”

 

“I know you said earlier but...do you mind?”

 

It took him a moment to realize what she meant. “No, go ahead,” he said. She looked at him another moment, and then leaned over, resting her head against his arm.

 

And started to cry.


End file.
